


Quick and Easy

by Sycriad



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Oops, Resident Evil 6, another awful story oops, gameverse, gotta ice jake, injured reader, mercenary, not the movies, reader is indeed a merc, the job went awry, those suck ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 10:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14330277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sycriad/pseuds/Sycriad
Summary: Ok, Scratch That. Not Quick and Certainly Not Easy





	Quick and Easy

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Before you read this just know that I'm using my own definition of a mercenary in case you go by the dictionary definition of being "a professional soldier hired to serve in a foreign army". My definition is a person whose incentive is acting for personal gain and is viewed as a warrior, assassin, OR soldier. I don't make the distinction between the desired gain being religious or political.
> 
> My apologies for any OOC-ness
> 
> It's been a while, to say the least
> 
> I actually started writing this a year ago
> 
> Another from my deleted Wattpad

"Hmph. Another mercenary, yeah? This'll be fun." (Name) muttered to themselves, a smirk slowly taking the place of their formerly bored expression. They held up a file with their target's information. They were already on their flight to Edonia via helicopter. Man, did their employers really want this man dead

\---

Name: Jake Muller (Age 20)

Citizenship: Republic of Edonia

Physical Appearance: Caucasian; 190 cm; Blue eyes

Has been in the employ of Edonian mercenaries for five years

Has trained or fought in all parts of Europe, the Middle East, and South America

Highly trained in armed and unarmed combat

Unpredictable and highly aggressive

Must be terminated immediately as he poses an indeterminately high threat level

Approach with caution

\---

They were antsy. Finally some excitement! An interesting target that might actually pose a challenge for once! This is going to be great!

The helicopter stopped above a building and another occupant dropped a rope from the side to allow (Name) to rappel down. They grabbed their duffel bag, gripped the rope in gloved hands, and began to slide down when the airborne machine hit an unexpected wave of... turbulence? A large hand between the shoulder blades and a rough shove signaled that they had been pushed out of the helicopter. It exploded as they hit the flat roof back first. Fire rained down and shrapnel shot outward, a large piece of charred metal getting lodged in their shoulder

"FuCK!" A screech escaped their lips as they reached for their shoulder. They yanked their bag close to them, leaped onto the next building over before running to one-handedly seize a flagpole hanging vertically on the other side of the building, and vaulted themselves in through a window. They hissed in pain, quickly unzipping their bag, pulling out a canteen before irrigating their wound and cooling the blistering metal. Since the wound was shrapnel, infection is almost guaranteed.

(E/C) eyes glanced around, noticing that the building appeared to be a hotel or some kind of living quarters and that they seemed to be in a not-so-fancy suite. Immediately, they began to raid cabinets and closets to see if there were any booze. Tightly gripping the handle of one of the cabinets, they ripped open the doors. Aggressively pulling the top off of a bottle, they applied the booze to the entrance wound in order to disinfect it. Using their non-injured hand, they felt around for an exit wound and upon feeling none, harshly pulled the metal out, yanked off the sleeve of their shirt and crudely stitched their injury with a piece of yarn they unraveled from a nearby blanket, all the while yelling in pain.

They were panting, already exhausted, "So much for using a rifle... I can't shoulder it like this...." Hauling themselves off of the ground, (Name) trudged to the window, examining the chaos unfolding outside. No wonder the ground was shaking. There were explosions going off left and right, the sound of gunfire filled the air, and a building in the distance collapsed as a military helicopter crashed into it.

"What the hell is going on out there? Why was I sent into a war zone??" They huffed, taking a shot of the leftover alcohol to lessen their pain, corking the bottle, and shoving the rest into their bag for later. The door was eerily quiet as gloved hands pushed it open. With their duffle bag draped over their well shoulder, the merc snuck down the stairs, readying a pistol. Peering around the corner, they saw multiple men with multiple eyes, in different colored jackets. They cocked their pistol before crouching down and sneaking up behind then men, pulling a knife out of their boot. They jumped on the first ones back, slit his throat, threw the knife at the other, landing it in the back of its head, and quickly put a bullet through the last one's forehead. 3 clean kills in a matter of seconds. This injury is holding them back.

Regaining their posture, they examined the corpses on the floor that began to disintegrate. An emblem on their jackets caught their eye. The same emblem that was on the jacket of their target in the photo that was given to them. He's nearby. "Let's get this over with." They wanted to leave immediately. They didn't sign up for this shit. Crouching down, they peeked through the doorway from which those monsters have come from. The coast was clear. Boots thumped against the ground, leaving footprints in the ice and snow as (Name) ran through the streets to avoid gunfire. This was going to be more difficult than first thought.

(Name) ran up a flight of busted stairs only to discover the upper level was destroyed, an anti-aircraft turret perched on the other side. So THAT'S why the helicopter crashed. Ohhhhh, those fuckers messed with the wrong merc. They snuck forward, creeping through a room that connected the two sides so they wouldn't have to jump the gap. Continuing through the exit, a man seated in a black chair firing away at other planes and helicopters caught their eye. He was oblivious to their presence. Perfect. Snatching the survival knife carefully from its sheath on the belt that hangs loosely from their hips, the skilled mercenary lunged and plunged their knife into the back of his neck. He slumped forward and the turret ceased its firing. Using the knife to pry off a metal panel, (Name) tore out and ripped up all their wires they could so the machine would terminate its function entirely. A job well done!

Now that this entire city (and possibly the entire country) was in shambles, this entire mission was touch-and-go. The likelihood of a good outcome was both diminishing and not. In their head, there were 4 outcomes.

1\. They wouldn't have to get their hands dirty because he died in the crossfire

2\. They would die before they got to him

3\. The mission would prevail and they'd get to kill him

4\. They'd both end up dying somehow

Outcome 2 was more likely than any other in their opinion. Especially when their injuries were that severe. It would only be a matter of time until infection set in and a painful, gangrene incited death would occur. Pushing on was their only option. It was either that or they wait for the cold hands of death to sweep them off of their feet and carry them into the abyss. Hell didn't quite suit their tastes, however, they'd willingly accept dying if they got their job done. Dying with unfinished business, to them, was worse than hell, and they are in no way a slacker. 

After their small break, they composed themselves and hopped down from the shattered building. They slipped around the corner and hid after masculine yelling alerted them that others were near. Peering around the busted cement, (E/C) eyes landed on a group of military personnel, immediately recognizing the BSAA logo. Oh great. The BSAA was against them. Despite being heavily skilled, they were almost caught after taking out a highly ranked agent. The agency knew their face.

(Name's) eyes scanned the group of men as they came closer. Then they took notice. The target was traveling with them. This was a minor set back but nothing they couldn't overcome if they separated the group. A gloved hand pulled the cloth loosely around their neck, over their nose so it hid the bottom half of their face. 

At that moment, the wind picked up and the sound of a low flying helicopter filled the air. Their eyes widened at the sight of a gargantuan beast being airlifted to their location. The ground shook as it made an impact, the stone splintered beneath its feet, and it let out a mighty howl that made everything in proximity tremble.

"What the fuck is that??" (Name) moved backward in shock, never having experience with a B.O.W of this caliber. Their gaze shifted toward the group at the creature's feet. The target and his blonde companion parted from the group of soldiers. At least now they didn't need to create a diversion. Slinking in the direction the duo went, they prepared their means of execution.

First things first, the blonde has to go. Since she wasn't the target, there was no need to ice her. With fluid movements, (Name) gripped the sides of her wrist with two fingers, swiftly moved to her forearm, and then delivered the final blow with their knuckle to her temple. She was on the ground before she could process what had just unfolded. It wasn't a hard enough blow to do more than knock her unconscious. She'd be fine.

As soon as she hit the ground, they kicked off the wall, grabbing some rebar from the damaged ceiling, and pulling themselves onto the roof just as the other mercenary turned around. He was immediately aware that this was not the work of the J'avos. He reloaded his pistol and surveyed the area before leaning Sherry against a nearby wall. Putting his finger on the trigger, he whipped around, only to be met with a boot to the gut.

"Son of a-!" He was about to shout profanities when the same boot connected with his jaw. "-Fuck!"

As much as (Name) knew that this wasn't professional mercenary behavior, they wanted some fun. They'd never had another mercenary as a target, and the adrenaline rush had made them forget all about their injuries. 

"Who the fuck are you, tough guy?" He spat, pulling himself off the ground and craning his neck to the side, popping it. His pistol had slid away from him.

No response was given, only silent staring. Both mercenaries continued to look each other up and down as they prepared to duke it out.

Jake laughed to himself. "You don't stand a chance. You're already injured."

(Name) scoffed in return, and rolled their shoulder, stretching it. "Not like I need it to kick your ass."

"Then bring it, short stack!"

"Let's tussle, shit-face."

They both charged at each other, punches, kicks, and blocks flying. Grunts of annoyance and hisses from pain were the only sounds other than fists and feet colliding with flesh. With a sweep of the leg, (Name) knocked Jake onto the ground. Putting his hands behind his head, he pushed off of his palms and into the air before landing gracefully on his feet.

"Can't take me down that easily."

"Don't get cocky, ass-clown. Looks like you're a little rusty. I was informed that you were actually good at combat." Their taunting had infuriated him.

"Hmph. Well, for someone supposedly trained, you're pretty shitty. I've seen better fighting between kids." He swung at them, fist making contact with their jaw. 

Popping their jaw back into its rightful spot, they sneered. "Alright, pretty boy. Ya want some fire? Here ya go." And with that (Name) unleashed an unpredictable combo of complex moves, successfully but briefly startling and forcing Jake to the ground. They stomped on his chest, winding him. In the midst of a second strike, he grabbed their ankle and tossed them in the other direction as if they were nothing. Both parties were bleeding and breathing heavily. A stalemate, as it appears. In one swift movement, Jake was on the ground once more, (Name) on top of him with a pistol to his head. "I'll admit this was fun but-"

The ground trembled as the large B.O.W that had been momentarily forgotten about, sent an oversized fist through the wall, knocking (Name) to the side. They hit the wall with a painful 'thud'. A groan escaped from them as they hauled themselves off the ground.

Jake turned his attention to the B.O.W. "Guess I owe you a beer." His gaze shifted back the heap on the floor that was (Name).

"Son of a bitch. This wasn't in the contract."

"So you are a mercenary."

"Yeah, and?"

"Who hired you."

"Doesn't matter. I'm off this. When I was hired, I wasn't enlightened with the knowledge that I'd be neck deep up shit creek with my mouth wide open. The ball's in your court now."

"Well considering this thing is preventing anyone from doing anything, why don't you get off your ass and help do something about it?"

"Sure thing, chief."

(Name) went over to Sherry and slapped her around. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty. Time to go to work."

She arose in a dazed confusion, staring at the newcomer, before turning her attention to Jake. "What just-?"

"Long fucking story."

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops  
> I slipped and fell on my keyboard


End file.
